A Sound Soul
by Kipcha
Summary: She was searching for meaning in her existance. He was someone who believed there was no meaning in his. But perhaps their reasons for living were far more simple then they once thought. SoulxMaka AU - ON-HIATUS
1. Chance

**Author Notes: **I make no guarantees on when this fic will be updated, but for now the plan is to try and update every week. However, life has been crazy recently and I've been going through a lot of financially and mentally stressful events so like I said before, I can't really make any promises. As much as I love writing fanfiction, real life has to take priority.  
>This fic was originally written to be a oneshot, but when it reached over 14,000 words I decided that writing it as a oneshot simply was not going to work. So this story will be told in a disjointed fashion, showing the highlights over the time that Soul and Maka spend together. Some of the chapters will be light, humorous and fluffy and others... Won't. This story will be wandering into some darker territory eventually, you have been warned.<p>

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Soul Eater manga, anime or anything else. This fic is fanmade and purely for enjoyment, just like everything else on this site.

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><p>His memories from the majority of night were vague, but his memories of meeting her were clear as day.<p>

He could vaguely recall sitting at the dingy little bar, hitting on some random broad who was taking the bait hook, line and sinker. Her attentions must have been clear as her Sasquatch of a boyfriend came over to stake his claim. He scoffed darkly at the thought. Ever since _that_ day, he was always referred to as an animal, a lower form of life and yet the most primitive of beasts were the ones that were, in fact, normal humans. It was pathetic.

In some way or another, his big mouth ended up getting himself into a tussel and the other guy had pulled a knife. He remember laughing, morphing his arm into his scythe form, something that turned out to be both one of the biggest mistakes of his life, but at the same time one of the best things that ever happened to him.

Weapons had long since lost the respect and admiration that they once had and were now hunted almost to the brink of extinction. Sixteen years ago, a rebellion against weapons took place due to their unnatural abilities and by extension, their technitions were meant for the same fate. This lead to overwhelming casualties on both sides but the weapons, even with their advantage over regular people, were outnumbered vastly and forced to retreat. Many were in hiding, living as normal people by themselves or with the meister partners who still stayed by their sides after all these years. As such, both were considered a menace to the human race and had to be wiped out of existence. It was a mission that was taken seriously by many.

Apparently, this guy was one of those people that had a particularily strong hatred for 'his kind' if his gutteral insults and threats were anything to go by.

Normally, Soul would have been fully capable of holding his own in a fight like this one, particularly against a clumsy gorilla like this. He managed to keep him at bay for some time and almost enjoyed the excitement that had been absent from his life for so long, a natural thirst for violence that ran through his blood as a weapon. Unfortunately for him, he was drunk on alcohol and adrenaline, his movements becoming clumsier and more easy to read. It was a split second when his guard dropped that his attacker took control of the situation.

A flash of silver and a spurt of red were the only real indication to him at what happened and he turned his gaze down, seeing the blood that was already seeping through the new slice in his white shirt, an opening that had only been made availible by having his black leather jacket unzipped. Although it may have looked cooler, he made a mental note to make sure that he zipped up his jacket from now on if he was looking for a fight.

The pain came next, although it wasn't nearly as sharp as it should have been, his heavily intoxicated body dulling his senses and reducing the wound to little more then a dull ache.

However, the slash caused him to make the first smart move of the night. Wheeling around wildly and slicing his arm through empty air, people jumped out of his path as he barreled out of the small bar like a bat out of hell, spinning around the nearest corner and nearly toppling himself over a large garbage can. He heard the door slam behind him and he went to slow his pace, the sudden lurching movements of his escape causing his stomach to turn unpleasantly, a wave of nausea washing over him. He didn't even have the time to grimace before he lurched over, soundly emptying the contents of his stomach onto the already disgusting cement.

_At least I'm not the first poor bastard to empty my guts here_, he thought dryly, wiping his mouth with his sleeve and looking distastefully at the ground. His head did feel a bit clearer now though, and he almost considered sitting down for a second to catch his breath until he heard three or four other guys leaving the bar behind him. Judging by the sounds of the shouts, he probably wasn't safe to stick around here, particularly in this pathetic state.

Clutching his side, he bolted into the nearest alley and didn't stop for a good ten minutes, taking as many twists and turns until even he had no idea where he was. Feeling a little dizzy and out of breath, he slows to breathe and gain his bearings.

He glanced around him, realising that he seemed to be in a part of town he hadn't explored yet. The walkway was clean of trash, the fences on either side a pristine white, free of graffiti and filth. The normal rusted out dumpsters were instead replaced with shiny blue recycling bins and black garbage bags that were due to be picked up that following morning. He chuckled to himself. Totally not his scene.

He leaned against a gate beside one of the large blue bins, the blood loss finally taking its toll. He slid down to the cement and gingerly pulled off his jacket to assess the damage.

It may have been the plain white t-shirt he was wearing causing a brilliant contrast, but it looked like there was a dizzying amount of blood. He blanched, sighing and leaning his head back, running his now normal hand through his messy white hair, not caring about the red streak it left behind. True, he had been through a hell of a lot worse then this (The long white scar across his chest was proof of that), but an injury when you're living on the streets was something you tried to avoid.

"Just fucking great." He muttered to himself, closing his eyes and listening to the silence around him. He sighed, pulling his black jacket back on to protect himself from the nights chill. "What the hell am I going to do now?"

He didn't even hear her approach and he was ashamed to admit that her voice did make him jump a good few inches into the air. "Umm, excuse me... Are you alright?"

He glanced up and he noticed her start slightly, no doubt from his appearance. He must have been quite the sight to see just at that moment, he thought dryly to himself. Hell, his looks drew attention even when he was in top form. Jagged teeth that he had heard people compare to a shark's, lazily spiked white hair and, the attribute he thought made people the most uncomfortable, a pair of bright red eyes. The same color as blood, he remembered his mother saying to him once. Adding in his currently sickly complection and the possibility of vomit in the corner of his mouth, he wouldn't blame her from turning tail the second she laid eyes on his face.

She remained rooted on the spot despite all this, an odd look coming over her face.

"What the hell are you lookin' at?" He snarled, feeling particularly uncool at the current moment but too damn exhausted to care.

His aggression didn't seem to faze her, instead she continued to stare at him intently, almost as if trying to figure something out. To be honest, she was starting to freak him out a little bit, but he just continued to glower at her in an attempt to chase her off. He had no idea how he always managed to attract the freaks, but they always seems to find him.

She jolted suddenly, her eyes widening and a gasp escaping her her mouth in surprise. He raised an eyebrow at her odd reaction. This girl must be slow as hell to have just noticed that he looked like a freak, but whatever, maybe she would leave now. If she didn't... He would have to think of a way to make her leave.

He was shocked when instead she crouched down to his level and met his gaze, laying what appeared to be a school bag at her side and giving him a small smile, seemingly unafraid.

"Come on, I'll get you out of here." She said, reaching forward with her hand and obviously expecting him to take it.

What the hell was wrong with her?

"No way." He snapped coolly, slapping her hand away dismissively. Big mistake. Before he realised it, he had swiped a red trail along her hand, curtesy of the blood from his wound. She glanced down at it blankly, taking in the red liquid without emotion. Great, now she was probably going to scream and alert those thugs to where he was...

She stared at the blood for a second more before pulling herself closer to sit directly in front of him, careful to keep her legs together so her skirt didn't shuffle. He leaned back away from her, pushing into the fence in an effort to put some distance between himself and her but also trying to not make it obvious. His hand itched to transform and force her to leave but he held down the urge, reminding himself that she was nothing more then a random person who didn't seem to have any kind of ill intentions yet. She was just an idiot who didn't how to take a hint. He would not be intimidated by this girl.

"You're hurt." She stated, glancing down at the small amount of white turned red shirt the peeked out from under his jacket. When he remained silent, watching her carefully as she slowly reached her hand out to him again, her green eyes staring steadily into his own. "I can help you."

"And why the hell would you do that?" He questioned, staring at her hand as if it was going to bite him. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into. So instead of being a little girl scout who wants to help a poor, unfortunate guy, how about you get the hell away from me? I don't need your pity."

She frowned slightly, a flash of frustration, obviously put out a bit by his stubborn behaviour, but she didn't back down. "Who did that to you?"

"None of your damn business."

"What's your name?"

"What part of none of your damn business are you not getting? Get the hell out of here!"

"Are the people who hurt you still trying to find you?"

Almost as if to give her a proper answer, the sound of approaching footsteps and rowdy voices echoed through the alleyway. The girl turned her head, glancing down the wide path to see four guys who didn't seem to have spotted them yet. She turned back to him and got the answer she needed by his sudden change in body language. He was watching them carefully and she noticed that he seemed nervous, if the tightness of his body or the clenching of his hands had anything to say. She could tell he was trying to hide it, though. His expression hadn't changed in the least, a firm frown set on his face.

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye and she could have sworn she saw a split second of guilt in them. "Hey, I'm serious, you should leave now."

Making a spilt second decision, she scooped her arm under his armpit in a feeble attempt to hoist him up. He pulled violently away from her, flinching as his wound opened what little had begun to feebly form a scab, his expression hostile as he opened his mouth to cuss her out. However, her frantic hand gestures effectively cut off his tirade.

"Look, I can get you out of this, but you just have to stand up and walk with me, alright?"

He turned his eyes back to the guys that were now making their way in their general direction. He supposed he had two choices.

Sit there and wait for them to find him and try beat him like a dog on the spot, to which he would have to fight back and draw attention to himself, most likely getting himself caught by the cops or worse. Or, he could trust the girl for just a few minutes and get out of here without a fuss, ditching her later on and leaving them all none the wiser.

He sighed deeply, turning back to the blond who waited calmly for his answer... Or at least she tried to. Her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt did give away some of the anxiety she seemed to be trying to hide from him. He snorted. If she knew the gamble she was actually taking, she would probably be a hell of a lot more nervous. These types of goons held no room for mercy when it came to people who tried to protect weapons, whether they were fully aware of the situation or not.

"Fine."

At the simple word, she gave him a small smile that he didn't have time to appreciate before she snagged his arm and helped him up. He staggered but managed to stay standing as she rummaged through her pack, pulling out a black toque and pulled it down roughly over his head, pushing his hair underneath it until none of its stark white could be seen. She stood, observing her work until satisfied.

"Zip up your jacket and put these on." She ordered, handing him a set of white leather gloves. He did as he was told, careful not to get blood on the outside of the glove, watching as she went over and opened the gate he had just been leaning against and slamming it shut, the noise echoing through the alley and drawing the attention of the boys to the two of them. The girl glanced down, noticing the blood stains his wound had left on the ground. In one swift move, she pulled the recycling bin over, covering all traces of red before turning back to him.

"What the hell are you doing?" He hissed, watching his pursuers approach, not even noticing her wrapping her hand in a cloth she had pulled from her bag. He was far too busy fighting the urge to wring her neck for just making the situation all the worse.

"Quiet." She whispered to him, coming over to his injured side. Without hesitating, she pulled his hand swiftly from his wound and wrapped it around her shoulder, her own flying to take over the place over his wound. She moved closer to his side, shooting him a look to be silent and play along. They barely managed to get ten steps before the group called to them.

"Hey, you two, what are you doing here?"

A frown came to the girls face, although a slight tremor entered her voice as she spoke. "What does it matter to you?"

He stiffened as he recognised the Sasquatch who had slashed him, along with three of his goonies that he had threatened with his scythe, although he doubted they even really remembered what he looked like. While Sasquatch seemed capable of walking in a straight line and talking clearly, his three buddies had obviously had one too many, their expressions slack jawed and vacant. It took everything he had not to turn his arm into a blade once more when they surrounded them on each side, creating a wall of drunken muscle. He nearly jumped when the girl gave him a squeeze to keep him still, almost as if she were trying to reassure him. He glanced down at her, surprised at how relaxed she seemed considering the situation, her mask of an innocent and oblivious school girl perfectly in place. She seemed to be in control of the situation, although not so relaxed that it seemed unnatural for a girl who had just been approached by four strange men.

The lead ape took a step forward, glancing between the two of them before his expression relaxed slightly, to look less intimidating, he supposed. "I'm sorry, we're just looking for someone who's been commiting some crimes around this neighbourhood, no need to be nervous. Have you seen anyone suspicious tonight?"

The girl relaxed almost immediately, a relieved smile coming to her face. "Oh, okay." She laughed, immediately lightening the mood considerably. She used her free hand to tap her chin thoughtfully, raising her eyes skywards as if considering the question. "We're just leaving a friend's house, but I haven't seen anyone yet, except you guys." She glanced up at her companion, tilting her head slightly. "Have you?"

He gave himself a second or two to seem like he was thinking before he shook his head and grunted a "No". The girl smiled again, turning back to the pack and shrugging.

"Sorry we can't help." She apologized and if he hadn't have known better, he could have sworn she was being sincere. She delivered the alpha what could only have been her sweetest innocent smile. "Can we leave now? Or do you need anything else?"

It seemed like whatever she was doing worked like a charm. He stepped aside immediately, a slight flush coming to his face. They must have been dumber then Soul originally thought, being so easily manipulated by her. "No, sorry for disturbing your evening."

Soul remained tense as they walked between them and up the alley, his eyes staying on the pavement and focusing on keeping his footsteps slow and natural. He didn't allow himself to relax until they were a good five blocks away, although he had noticed his little chaperon seemed completely at ease now, even humming to herself a little. It was only then that he realised that he still had his arm around her shoulder, allowing her to support him.

Without warning, he pulled himself away, his hand going back to put pressure on the wound although it wasn't bleeding as badly anymore. The girl allowed him to move away without complaint and unwrapped the bloodied cloth from her hand, replacing it with another thick cloth from her bag and handing it to him. He took it suspiciously, pressing it to his side. They continued to walk in silence, never taking his eyes off her face.

He hadn't really had a chance to look at her before. Her ashy blond hair was pulled into two pigtails, something that he realised made her look younger then she probably actually was. Her small chest really didn't help her out in that department either he noted wryly. Her eyes were a bright shade of green, he remembered that much clearly from all the staring that she had done. She was dressed in a plaid skirt with a white collared shirt, although that was a little hard to see with her long black coat that went all the way down to her ankles. She was pretty in her own way, but it really wasn't enough to make her stand out in a crowd. Overall, she was simply normal.

"I'm Maka, by the way."

It was then he noticed her watching him from the corner of her eye, a small smile on his face, obviously amused in his interest. He turned his gaze away stubbornly, slightly embarrassed to have been caught staring, looking back to the sidewalk. She seemed to have not a single care in the world, her hands now clasped behind her back, looking up at the stars and the laughing moon. When she didn't press for his name, he sighed, running a hand through his hair again. She had done quite a bit for him, his name was the least he could offer. Doing anything less would be totally uncool.

"Soul."

Her smile widened, a small spark coming to her eyes. "Well, Soul, I have an apartment not too far from here, if you want to tend to that injury. I'd imagine you'd probably want to wash it out, considering you've been running around in alleys." Her nose wrinkled slightly as she looked him over. "I'd also imagine you want to wash your, well... Everything else too. You're filthy."

She took his silence as an affirmative and continued to her place, allowing him to set the pace at an easy stroll now that they were temporarily out of harms way. She continued to hum, breaking the silence and filling the air with a soothing melody. Although he hated to admit it, her presence was rather relaxing. He didn't even noticed when she stopped in front of him, a sigh escaping her lips as she looked fondly at the building before her.

"Well, home sweet home."

The apartment building was small and clean, nothing too special but not a dump either, definitely higher class then the places he was recently accustomed to. Then again, there were probably dumpsters that were higher class then the roach hotels he had been bouncing around in. If this night offered nothing else, he would appreciate a decent night's sleep.

They entered through the small lobby and walked up two flights of stairs, leading down a hallway with two doors on each side. He quirked an eyebrow at room 308's painted number being painted over and replaced with an 808, but shrugged it off. He'd seen weirder.

She reached her apartment, number 304, and inserted the key into the lock, turning it with a clunk. She pushed the door open, extending her hand to gesture inside and inviting him in. Soul stared at her for a second or two, trying to detect a hint of deceit or malice in the offer. When he came up short he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck and shrugging before strolling in. Unless she held some sort of magical skill she had yet to reveal, she was just a girl. It wasn't like he couldn't escape if a situation arose.

Hell, what was the worst that could happen?


	2. Choice

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Soul Eater manga, anime or anything else. This fic is fanmade and purely for enjoyment, just like everything else on this site.

**Authors Note: **It was pointed out to me that it seemed like Maka was a little OOC in the last chapter, and most likely in this one as well. I would like to point out that this is an AU and as such, the characters do need to be tweaked slightly to fit the situations that they have been placed in, although not so much as to make them a completely different character. I would like to also mention that Maka is a lot more tolerant to people she is trying to help (An excellent example being Crona) and she wouldn't get as easily annoyed with Soul for not co-operating at first. She needed to gain his trust and beating him with a book is not a good way to start out that relationship.

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><p><em>Ugh, his head.<em>

He rolled over sluggishly, ignoring the ache in his side in favor of nursing the insistent pounding in his skull. His mouth tasted like something may have crawled in there and died through the night, the unpleasant furry sensation not helping the overall revolting feeling. The rest of his body felt extremely heavy and dopey, discouraging his attempts at movement by dragging him back down to the mattress. He opened his eyes blearily and much to his surprise, was met with a tall glass of water and two Tylenol.

He blinked twice, observing the items before him in bafflement, his surprise overriding the impulse to shut his eyes again and go right back to sleep. Working up the motivation to move, he glanced around the room in confusion as memories from last night started to slowly trickle back to him, reminding him of what an idiot he had been. He was in a small and yet comfortable sized bed with sheets far cleaner and softer then he was used to, not to mention an even mattress that was wonderfully plush, the exact opposite of the normal squeaky ones with springs digging into his back. The room walls were a plain white, nothing decorating them, with a small closet and a dresser where his black jacket had been placed. With a grimace, he noted a large window with ample amounts of sunlight streaming in and he closed his eyes against the offending light.

He'd been here too long already.

Frowning, he downed the two pills and the water in a single swig and stood, noticing that his pair of jeans were the same but he had a new shirt on and after lifting it to investigate his wound, found it was completely bandaged. He couldn't help but notice that it appeared that the bandage had been changed recently, looking crisp and white with minimal blood stains.

He grabbed his leather jacket and threw it on, looking around the room for anything else that may have been his but coming up short, not that it took him long to search. The room was so pristine that he almost felt guilty walking around and dirtying the floor.

Taking a deep breath, he walked over to the door and slowly turned the knob, pushing the barrier open and flinching at the squeak it made.

The apartment was small, a decent sized living room with a tv and a large couch taking up the majority of it. The kitchen was medium sized and rather nice and organised looking, the kitchen of someone who obviously enjoyed cooking at home. What made it even nicer was the wonderful aroma that was drifting from it and he frowned when the cook turned and met him with a bright smile. Well, so much for an unnoticed escape.

"You're finally awake!" She exclaimed (Maka, if he remembered right), turning back to the eggs in the pan. "I was starting to get a little worried, you were sleeping like a log in there."

She flipped the eggs, sprinkling some salt and pepper to add a little flavor and checked the bacon before turning around. Or, before she tried to turn around.

She found herself thrown backwards rather violently, her back meeting the wall with a thud and grimaced when the back of her head made contact and made her see stars for a moment. Her smile fell as she felt cool, sharp steel being pressed lightly against her throat and a pair of crimson eyes staring unblinkingly, obviously not fazed by his own use of violence.

"Listen, I was never here." He started calmly, keeping his voice quiet and level but containing a hint of malice that could not be misinterpreted. "I'm just going to leave and not come back, no big deal, okay? Don't even think of following me and if you decide to report this to the cops, I'll find you here and slit your throat, got that?"

She sighed heavily, looking back at the stove with a forlorn expression. "The bacon is burning."

"...What?"

She huffed, pushing him back slightly and gesturing to the pan of popping meat, rolling her eyes as if it were the most obvious thing in the world to say when her life was being threatened.

He had to admit, her comment threw him off a little. He took a step back, taking in her completely calm expression and feeling his own fall in bafflement. "Uhh... Huh?"

She rolled her eyes again, stepping past him and back to the stove as if he hadn't just threatened to spill her blood with a scythe blade that was longer then his arm, or more specifically, was his arm. "I realise this is going to throw your whole dramatic exit out the window and all, but I already knew you were a weapon. In fact, I knew it last night."

Well, this certainly changed matters. Not quite sure what to do, he walked over to the counter, turning his hand normal once more and looking at her in confusion. "Maybe I didn't make myself clear... Huh?"

"Soul perception." Maka replied, not taking her eyes of the meal she was cooking and trying to repair the damage her brief absence had done. "I can see souls. It's how I found you last night. I felt your soul wavelengths and I knew you were in distress. So, I tracked you down. It really wasn't hard, you know. Your soul is rather unique, even for a weapon."

He blinked in surprise, blurting out the first possibility that came to mind. "You're a meister?"

She raised an eyebrow, glancing at him from the corner of her eye as if slightly amused by his deductive reasoning. "Can I really be a meister if I haven't had a weapon? No, but I want to be one."

He shrugged now, leaning his back against the counter and looking her over once more with new found respect. It was absolutely idiotic, how this information made him feel a sense of comradery with someone he was just threatening, but it did. They say common ground draws people closer together then anything else, but he had never had the chance to test that theory before. They both had their lives on the line because of something they had been born with, something that was natural to them although most of the population begged to differ. It was like suddenly, she was a completely different person.

"I don't know why you would want a weapon." He reasoned, trying not to feel slightly guilty that he had perhaps ruined her breakfast with his dramatics. "It just puts a huge target on your back and puts you in some real danger."

"As if having this ability doesn't already? If I was ever caught, I would either be forced to work by tracking down weapons or if I refused, which I would, I would be slaughtered on the spot... Maybe imprisoned for life if they were feeling a tad more merciful."

He grunted noncommittally. "You can hide that pretty damn easy though. Just don't do things like... Well, this."

She chuckled without humor, a dark look entering her eyes. "I could say the same about you, and yet you just waltz out of _my_ room into _my_ kitchen and put a scythe to my throat when you could have snuck out or better yet, just asked to leave."

He shrugged again, something he had a habit of doing. "What can I say, it was a lot cooler of an exit."

He noticed her roll her eyes again but she held her tongue, instead opting for finishing breakfast and cursing under her breath as the bacon popped, sending hot grease out of the pan and over her hand. He watched her silently, brooding on exactly what to do with the situation as it currently was. She had hinted that he still had the option of leaving without a fuss but somehow, he just couldn't bring himself to walk out the door. He'd never found a person like him, weapon or meister, and he had to admit that he was extremely curious. This girl had rare and potentially life altering abilities. It wasn't like he really had any life to really go back to anyways.

Maka slid the eggs on to two plates, divying the bacon evenly and looking down proudly at her handiwork, wiping imaginary dust off of her apron before removing it and placing it on a hook on the wall. When he made no move, she gestured to the two plates and looked at him expectantly. "Well, pick your poison."

When he made no move, she sighed deeply as if slightly dissapointed and grabbed the smaller of the two plates, walking over to the couch and flipping on the TV. As she began to channel surf, Soul felt his eyes wander back to the plate unwillingly. The scent of bacon filled his nose, causing an involuntary drip of drool to run from the corner of his mouth. He promptly slurped it back up, no longer able to hold himself back from the siren's song.

Grabbing a piece of bacon, he placed it in his mouth and had to bite back a groan of satisfaction, restraining himself from swallowing it greedily and trying to savor the delicious flavour it offered. It had been far too long since having food this good.

"There's milk and juice in the fridge." Came Maka's voice from across the room and he didn't have to see her to tell she was amused. "I have orange and apple. Oh, and since I cooked, it's only fair you do the dishes!" Her voice dropped to an indignant grumble. "You're lucky there wasn't a book around after that little stunt that you tried to pull. You should be happy you got off with just the dishes."

Soul fought to keep down a smirk of amusement. This may just be interesting.


	3. Trust

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Soul Eater manga, anime or anything else. This fic is fanmade and purely for enjoyment, just like everything else on this site.

**Authors Note: **A slight development chapter, there will be a few of these before the plot really starts to move. After all, we need to build up some trust between our leads before we get to the nasty stuff!

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><p>Maka fumed, a brilliant pink flushing on her cheeks and snorting like an angry bull at the defiant look on his face. She had done her best to be patient, understanding and tolerant since Soul had arrived but... He was just being plain childish now! This had nothing to do with lack of trust or perhaps a traumatic past, but a fear of small pointy objects. Someone who could turn his body into a living weapon, afraid of a sewing needle.<p>

Somehow, the humor was lost on her.

Part of her debated shoving him to the floor and forcefully doing the deed, but she kept her temper in check and merely hovered over him, waiting for him to give in. Something told her at this rate, she was going to be waiting for quite some time.

Soul covered his side protectively, ignoring the blood that was starting to run through his fingers again and coat them in a brilliant scarlet. His eyes hardened in rebuttal, eyeing the small object in her hand critically.

No way in heck was she getting near him with that, especially knowing what she had in mind. At first he had been open to the idea and was willing to allow her to work her medical expertise on the annoying wound, but when she confessed that she had no previous experience and would try to keep them in a straight line, he immediately rebelled.

"We can't exactly take you to a doctor, Soul. You know that. But we have to stitch it up!" She argued furiously, one hand placed firmly on her hips and the other holding a threaded needle that she was waving around in an attempt to make her rant more convincing. "I don't want to do this any more then you, trust me. But it has to be done, you'll just keep opening it again and to be honest, I'm tired of cleaning blood out of my sheets!"

He looked away stubbornly, a pout coming to his mouth, suddenly looking less like the hardened delinquent he tried to be and more like a five year old who was being told to eat his green vegetables. "Like hell I'm letting you treat me like a science experiment! I already let that happen once and it didn't exactly have me lining up for seconds!"

She wondered for a second at what he meant before reminding herself of the matter at hand. She held out the threaded needle, sighing. "Fine, then you do it yourself!"

He paled, the color flooding from his face and making it as white as his hair. He swallowed thickly, toying with the idea for a second before shaking his head firmly. "No."

She heaved an angry sigh, crossing her arms and nearly pricking herself with the needle, although she didn't seem to even notice, being too focused with the task at hand. "Listen Soul, we have to close that thing up or it's going to take forever to heal. I promise I won't try anything else, okay? Just let me help you with this."

He glanced down at his wound that was already running on to the recently cleaned bedsheets (He could swear he could hear the steam escaping from Maka's ears at the sight) and staining them a brilliant red. He knew she was right, but really, could anyone blame him for feeling hesitant? He really didn't like the idea of his flesh being her practice material. He supposed that there really wasn't much damage she could do, but she had a habit of amazing him by doing something that he hadn't really considered before. He did not want to think about where that road could possibly lead in this situation.

He grumbled, looking back up at her, his words faltering. "If I do this... Will you stop hounding me?"

She raised an eyebrow at his terms but restrained herself, allowing the tiniest of smiles. "For now."

He rolled his eyes, pulling his shirt off and gingerly pulling his hand away to expose the gash. Maka gave him a short look of reassurance before kneeling down beside him and observing the wound that she had helped clean numerous times during Soul's short stay here.

She pulled over the material she had bought earlier that day and lit the candle with a small lighter, her once violent movements fueled by the fury at his rejection now softened and calmer. Dare he say it, the way she moved was almost comforting, but it did nothing to soothe the anxiety of what he knew was to come.

Soul eyed the fishing line warily. Surely that was not certified equipment.

"Why are you using that? Can't you just use string or something?" He questioned suspiciously as she grabbed a pair of tongs and held the needle over the small flame.

"That's what we're going to use for the stitching." She explained to him patiently, although her eyes remained on the task at hand. "All the books I've read have told me how to do this and recommended fishing line. As a rule, cotton and other material like that lead to the most bacteria and the highest likelihood of infection, so this is the next best thing to having a doctor do it with the things people generally have on hand." She locked the small clamp and laid it against the edge of the wide candle, keeping the needle in the flame. She cocked her head thoughtfully. "Although weapons are supposed to heal faster so I doubt it would really have time to develop into something more serious in this environment. I bet it would have been long healed by now if we had just found a way to keep it from reopening." She grabbed a clean washcloth and grabbed the iodine, soaking it in the liquid.

She looked at his wound, holding the cloth nervously and only making his stomach churn more violently then before. "We've really only flushed this out with water before. Iodine is better though... But I'm warning you, this is going to burn."

Soul glanced down, his jaw clenching and causing the muscle to jump involuntarily from the pressure. "And why can't we just use water?"

"I already told you, it works better." She repeated, scooting closer to him and bringing her hands forward, waiting for him to give her the go ahead. "We can't risk infection since I can't bring you into a doctors office."

His eyes narrowed sharply. "But I'm a weapon, I'll heal faster and with this enviroment, it shouldn't develop into anything, remember tiny tits?"

He noticed her hand clench the cloth tightly at his nickname but she remained calm, forcing her voice to remain even. "I said that I think that is what's most likely, but I don't want to take any chances."

She saw him tense, but he didn't argue anymore. Taking this as permission, she steadied her hand as she drew it closer to the wound. "Ready? One, two... Three."

She pressed the cloth and immediately, a hot sensation flashed through his skin. His bit his lip, almost drawing blood at the unexpected sharpness of it.

"Son of a bitch!" He snarled, glaring down at the offending cloth as if it had tried to cause him the pain. "That hurts worse then the goddamned knife!"

"I know, but it's almost over." She told him calmly. At his exaggerated theatrics she rolled her eyes, sympathy now lost. "Oh, stop being such a baby about it Soul."

Bathing his wound before removing the cloth and flushing it out again with water. She removed the needle quickly and waited for it to cool a little, knowing she left it longer then the recommended minute and a half but she couldn't help it. She would hate to go through all this work flushing it out only to have a needle that wasn't sterile. If there was one thing that the medical books she had been reading always pressed, it was that treatment needed to be done in a germ-free manner.

As they sat in silence, she touched the metal experimentally and nodded when she was able to hold it without burning herself, although it was still a little warm to the touch. She leaned forward, looking up at him for the affirmative. When he gave a curt nod, she pulled herself towards him and looked at the reddened skin and open wound. She tried to keep her lunch down as she pressed to tip to him, cringing as the skin refused to give and make this an easy job. When it finally broke through she gave a slight sigh of relief, glad that it wasn't nearly as grotesque as she had been mentally picturing.

She set to work on sewing him up, measuring the quarter inch in between each stitch by eye and trying to convince herself that it was not human flesh that she was working on. However, she kept her hand steady and was moving through the task much quicker then he had anticipated. He would never admit it out loud, but he was rather impressed with how well she handled it.

"Done!" Maka breathed deeply as she finished the final one and observed her handiwork while wiping her brow, a gleam of pride entering her eyes. Five stitches and rather well done considering she had never attempted something like that before.

As Maka glanced him over for any other possible injuries he may have been hiding from her as he reached over for his shirt again. Her eyes halted on a long white scar that stretched across his chest, slightly raised and shining bright in the sunlight streaming in through the window. She fought down the temptation to run her fingers along it as she tore her eyes away before he noticed her gawking, reminding herself that she barely even knew him. It was really none of her business.

She picked up her materials and threw Soul his new, clean bandage before heading for the door.

"Hey." His voice stopped her and she glanced back, staying careful to make sure the candle didn't tip and spill hot wax over her hand.

He continued placing the bandage over his new patch, his mouth set in a firm line and his gaze firmly on his hands. "Thanks."

She smiled. "You're welcome."


	4. Consequences

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Soul Eater manga, anime or anything else. This fic is fanmade and purely for enjoyment, just like everything else on this site.

**Authors Note: **Sorry for the short chapter, but working full time really cuts down on writing *Sigh*

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><p>"Hey, what the hell Maka! That was extremely uncool!"<p>

Maka fumed, her hand still clenching the dictionary in fury as she glared down at a cowed Soul who clutched the growing lump on the top of his head. Her gaze turned back to the numerous empty beer bottles that surrounded him, the fire lighting brighter in her eyes as she counted them. When she sent her glare back to stare him down, he involuntarily flinched. Damn, since when had he been such a wimp? Living here had really made him soft... But dammit, those books really hurt!

"I leave for an hour and this happens?" She hissed, gesturing around her as if she were scolding a misbehaving puppy for getting into the garbage. "I thought I told you that while you were in this house, I wasn't going to allow any kinds of drugs or alcohol! I mean, where did you even get it? I told you not to leave the apartment, people could still be looking for you right now, you know! You're not exactly inconspicuous!"

Soul folded his arms grumpily, glaring at the floor. "That idiot Black Star came over and gave em' to me. Said he pitied me, having to stayed holed up with a violent bookworm like you twenty-four seven."

Soul flinched his hands over his offended skull as her hand clenched again, the book begging to be used once more as she tried to restrain herself. He wondered if perhaps they had been allowing themselves to get a little too confident in each others presence as this was a whole new side of her he had rarely seen before. Part of him wished he still hadn't.

"I'm not the one who said it dammit!" He howled, trying to ignore the ache his head was punishing him with, the blood pounding in his ears vaguely sounding something like _'stupid, stupid, stupid_'. He really had known better, but when the offer came up, he just couldn't resist it. Well, he was certainly paying for his crimes now.

She showed no remorse as she moved away from him, picking up the empty liquor containers scornfully and tossing them across the room. He cringed each time one hit the mark of the trash can. That girl had some deadly aim.

"I'm going to kill that idiot. You'd think that being in the same situation as us, he'd be a little more careful." She glared at the door as if it had done something to offend her. "I'm going to have to have another talk with Tsubaki. Maybe I'll talk to Kid too, it's going to take all our effort to keep Black Star under control."

"I dunno, I think he's cool. A total idiot, but cool."

She stared at him flatly, a sneer of distaste working its way to her face. "Why is that Soul? Because he's sneaking you liquor?"

"Well, that... And the fact that he's the only one who really seems to sympathise with what I'm dealing with, cooped up in hear with a flat-chested girl like you..."

They both sat in silence for a moment, Soul's brain finally catching up with his mouth as a sense of foreboding crept up his spine when he realised what was coming. _Ah, fu-_

"MAKA CHOP!"

"DAMMIT!"


	5. The First Step

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Soul Eater manga, anime or anything else. This fic is fanmade and purely for enjoyment, just like everything else on this site.

**Authors Note: **Alright, slight development. I promise, the plot will start moving soon and we'll explore Maka and Soul's past, then get the main plot moving then things will get really fun. I just want to build a realistic relationship and build some trust between the two (Since both of them will have some trust issues...). Just so people know, Soul has been living with Maka for a few months now.

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><p>Maka gazed at Soul in the dim lighting, twisting her hands nervously, thinking about what he had just proposed. Sure, it had seemed like a good idea just a few seconds ago but now? She felt like backing out. She had spent the last few years living on her own and preventing any possible mistakes that would lead to trouble. This seemed like a potentially stupid move to make. Her pride, however, was holding on stubbornly and refusing to let her go back on her word. Unless Soul gave in first, she would have to do it.<p>

"Soul, are you sure we should even be trying this? I mean... What if someone sees? That could really get us into some trouble..."

Soul scoffed scornfully, rolling his eyes at her goody two shoes nature and ignoring her unease at his recklessness. "C'mon Maka, don't be such a killjoy. We're in your apartment, the door is locked, we're alone and all the windows are covered. Who's gonna see?"

She didn't sound completely convinced, worrying her bottom lip as her eyes shifted to look for any spots where they could be spotted through perhaps a crack in the window or a door being open. She came up with nothing, but her stomach continued to twist in knots. "But Soul..."

She felt him slip his hand into hers, a reassuring shark-toothed grin on his face, an expression that she had already grown accustomed to in their short few months together. How could he be so calm with what he was asking her to try? "It'll be fine Maka. What if there's a situation where this is necessary? Don't you want to make sure that we can do it?"

She returned his grip, sounding the tiniest bit more confident at his reassurance. "I guess..."

His grin widened. If she was beginning to see things his way, he was not giving her a chance to back out. He needed to just do it fast and then he knew that if everything worked, they would both be hooked. "Alright then. One... Two... Three!"

A glow surrounded him, lighting the dark apartment for a moment before his form began to shift, taking the shape of an enormous scythe. Maka felt his hand become cold steel, twisting to his will. She held him firmly, worried that she might drop him if she wasn't careful. She doubted that would be a good way to start off the experiment. She was surprised to find, though, that he was the perfect size to fit comfortably in her hands and his weight was actually quite comfortable.

They stood in silence for a few seconds, not quite sure what to do. They hadn't discussed what to do if she actually matched wavelengths well enough for her to hold him. She had been quite sure that it would work, but she hadn't been completely convinced. All the research she had done on the topic had described the signs of soul compatibility and when she had told Soul, he knew they had to try. But what could they do now?

"Well." Soul muttered, his face appearing in the reflection of the blade, "I guess you were right, our soul wavelengths do match enough to be compatible."

Maka nodded slowly, experimentally lifting him in the air. "Wow, you're actually really light in this form. I expected more weight."

"I'm guessing that's a good thing?"

Maka didn't reply, growing more confident by the second and allowing a small smile to curve on her lips. She switched hands and tested him, getting used to the weight and feel of the handle. She couldn't help but think that this feeling was just so... Natural. Even though she had never held an actual weapon before, it felt like something she had done a thousand times before, something deep inside her giving its approval at her newest discovery.

It felt right.

She wondered if Soul's sudden uncharacteristic silence was due to him feeling to same thing too.

Giving the scythe an experimental twirl, she squeaked when he left her grip, falling to the floor with a clatter.

There was a growl of frustration. "Maka!"

She rushed over, picking him up with shaky hands. "Oh no, Soul! Are you okay?"

He sighed heavily. "Whatever. I do seem to have a bit of control in this form, but not when I'm not in your hands... Here, try that again."

More carefully this time, she slowly began to twirl him around in her hand. With Soul's added input, it was almost as if there was a magnet attracting the two of them together, keeping them in constant contact even when she wasn't actually holding him. As she started regaining her confidence she increased the speed, her smile returning when she managed to keep control.

She giggled. "This is awesome Soul!"

He remained silent, staying focused on staying in her grip as her movements became more complicated, but he had to agree. He wouldn't admit it, but the experience filled him with an emotion that he hadn't felt for years. Perhaps never before.

She laughed again, attempting a particularly complex twirl and hesitantly moving her feet as well. She spun with him in a series of intricate steps and much to her dismay, felt her balance begin to waver as her foot slipped slightly when the carpet slid under her feet. She tried to catch herself, taking an extra step and only succeeded in gaining speed towards the floor. Her hands tried to compensate for the loss of balance and catch herself, bringing Soul with her.

He acted quickly, bringing himself back to his human form and holding tightly onto her hand, his other scooping low to hold her waist and supporting her parallel to the floor. They both breathed heavily, not moving and allowing their hearts to calm a little from the shock.

Maka was the first to react with a nervous laugh. "Ahh, thanks. Maybe I shouldn't have tried that so fast. It's a lot harder then it looks."

He pulled her up and his hands left her when she could stand, one going back to rest behind his neck. Why was it so damn hot in here all of a sudden? "No big deal. At least we found out that we can work as a meister and a weapon, for all the actual good it does us."

"Yeah... I'm going to go make dinner."

Soul nodded, heading over to the couch he nearly sliced in two not moments ago. "Alright, cool."


	6. Home

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Soul Eater manga, anime or anything else. This fic is fanmade and purely for enjoyment, just like everything else on this site.

**Authors Note: **Yay, slightly longer chapter this time around!

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><p>Something was seriously wrong with her.<p>

The way she exploded over the smallest thing was honestly not normal. Her habit of beating him with books was another thing. Who did that?

The way she could go from sweet one second to bloodthirsty the next... She was totally bipolar and it really had the tendency to throw him off, just like it did tonight. To be honest, he didn't even remember what had set them off but it had somehow led to an argument worse then the ones they normally had. It frustrated the hell out of him and instead of opting for a yelling match that would draw attention of people within the next five blocks, he instead decided to just walk it off and let himself simmer down. Normally their little spats were nothing serious and neither of them ever truly got hurt feelings over the whole ordeal, but for some reason, tonight had been different. So, he had left.

That had been well over two hours ago. The moon already high in the sky and shining grimly in the night, it's cracked lips and demonic smile washing him in a sickening glow. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself, trying to ignore the chill in the night air as he breathed into his hands in an attempt to warm them. He watched the steam from his breath rise into the air, twirling almost playfully before disappearing into the darkness.

He had forgotten how cold the nights could get.

Sure, there were times where he would try to get a rise out of her because it was funny as hell. Her eyes would shine brighter then normal, her cheeks would flush and her voice would raise a pitch. He knew she thought she was intimidating, but it reminded him of a kitten that had been insulted. All puffed up to look menacing and yet the image only came out strangely adorable... Scratch that, he _did not_ find her adorable. No way. That would be completely uncool.

Then, there were the other times. The times when he really meant no harm when he said something or the times where he just wanted to chill and do some stuff that he used to have the freedom to do. He would start to relax and then she would get all pissy. He was sure she spent half the time annoyed at him.

He continued down the street, his gaze fixed firmly on the filthy sidewalk in front of him. Litter, a bit of blood, he wasn't quite sure he wanted to know what that one was... He felt his nose crinkle in disgust. But these were familiar sights. These were things that, gradually, over the years he had grown accustomed to. A time when he was actually expected to be something greater then the scum of society were so long ago he almost wondered if they were a dream, or perhaps a nightmare. Either way, being thrust into responsibilities once more was harder then he had first thought.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a neon sign. Lifting his head to look blankly at the building across the street, he read the words 'The Witches Lair' in bright blue neon with a pink witches hat placed on top of the 'W'. It was a place that he had, at one time, been far too familiar with.

He could hear the music blaring inside from the street, the rhythm strong and pounding through his chest. He could almost feel the heated pulse against him, allowing himself to fall under the spell of alcohol and lust, losing all his troubles in the ecstasy of another body by his, the drink sliding down his throat and blurring his mind of troubling thoughts and nightmare inducing memories, instead filling it with the here and now and what could be.

His hands would fall to some nameless girls waist and she would whisper his ear, promising him the most vulgar things and outrageous things should he decide to stick around. He never took them up on the offers (He doubted they would have stuck around had they known what he was), but for those few hours where he was just another face in the crowd, he allowed himself to be illusioned into thinking he was just another ordinary person. That he could live like them, free to be who and what they were. But then he would leave, fall asleep and wake up the next morning to reality. The reality that no one gave a damn about him and that he was better off dead. That people _wanted_ him dead.

But still, those few hours of drunken glory were the oasis that he always seeked. The high that he always tried to top. That building held some of his best memories.

He felt himself stepping towards it, the drive, the _need_ for the way things used to be, overriding his rational thought for a moment and losing himself in the fantasy. It would be so easy, he realised, to just step through that door and to fall into the way things had once been, the way he had lived for so long. To not have responsibility or stubborn roommates who couldn't admit they were wrong or to have to think for himself. He could just allow himself to sink into the world that he had thought he left behind when he stepped through her door.

To become what she had tried so hard to change. To improve. To better.

His steps slowly stopped, watching the door warily as if it would try to absorb him if he wasn't careful. If he came home piss drunk, he might not have a home to return to. Really, he wouldn't even blame her for it. Why should she, a perfectly responsible and good standing member of society who had her own problems to take care of, have to put up with a slob of a weapon like him? Sometimes he wondered what had possessed her to take him in the first place. He hadn't exactly made an astounding first impression and they had definitely had their share of rocky moments since.

He sighed, blinking slowly and mulling over his thoughts.

Home was a word that he hadn't used in years.

He considered it for a moment, tossing the word 'home' around in his head and drawing a mental image of what it would mean to him. But when he thought of her, of that place, home was the only word he could use to describe it. Could he truly say that his best memories really sat behind that door?

When he really considered it, he supposed that the last few months held some of his fondest memories. Sure, he wasn't out partying and living it up, but there were some times when he truly felt at peace in her company that really drew him in, as sappy as it sounded. All those nights where he would sit and watch TV while she curled up with a book against the couches arm rest. Eating dinner with her as they talked about each others day. The countless times they laid around the apartment doing absolutely nothing, in total comfort of the other presence although neither would openly admit it to the other. The way she laughed. How beautiful her smile was.

He used to watch the rich slobs who lived in upper parts of town with scorn, furious that they had life so good and yet they never truly appreciated it. Sure, he knew from experience that being from a wealthy family doesn't necessarily mean you have an easy ride, but he doubted they had gone through what he had. He knew that the majority of them were living healthy, prosperous existances while he wallowed in the hell hole he called his life since he had been tossed to the curb by the people he had called family.

And yet, here he was now, with a person that had been able to look past everything that he had become when he had been forced out on to the streets and his weapon blood and see him for who he truly was.

Suddenly, he felt ashamed. Ashamed of walking out on her and ashamed of what he had been even considering doing. The word stupid didn't even begin to describe it.

This was all so uncool.

Pausing only to give the door to temptation one last glance, he turned and began to head back home.

* * *

><p>He stood outside the door, looking down at the handle and wondering how he should approach the situation. If she had locked him out, he supposed he would just have to wait until morning before trying to apologise and even if he did, he didn't know if she would accept it. Hell, if she didn't want him to come back... He wouldn't force her to allow him in again. He had obviously been ungrateful, the huge jerk that she had accused him of being, he wouldn't blame her if she was spiteful about it. She had let him into her home, laid down a few simple ground rules and he had chosen to dispute them rather then humble himself a little and go by her simple terms. It wasn't even like they had been that restricting, just ones that would protect both her safety and his own.<p>

When he really thought about it, he sounded like an idiot. He felt his mouth twist at the revelation.

Carefully, he reached out to turn the handle. Much to his surprise, it slid easily, popping open the door to allow him inside. Taking a deep breath, he walked in, closing the door behind him.

There were no lights on and when he listened, he couldn't hear anything either. Creeping in carefully, he made his way over to his bedroom door, careful to slink by Maka's with extra care. It could feel his earlier determination leaving him. He just wanted to crawl in bed and hope that by morning, everything would be back to normal.

He flinched as the floor squeaked beneath his feet, the normally quiet sound ringing through the air like a gunshot.

"Soul?"

He jumped, turning to the source of the voice. There sat Maka, curled up in a blanket on the couch and rubbing her eyes tiredly, trying to focus on his outline in the dark. "Is... That you Soul?"

He swallowed thickly. It was now or never, he supposed. "Yeah."

It went quiet again for a few moments. Soul had to remind himself to breathe. Where had that long speech he had prepared gone? His mind was completely blank.

Majorly uncool.

"Oh."

Not quite the reaction he was expecting, but he supposed it was better then the thump on the head or tossing him back outside the door. He forced his muscles to relax as he turned to look at her and realized that perhaps she was just too groggy to practice any sort of violence at the moment. She yawned widely, leaning back into the couch and observed him thoughtfully, clicking on the lamp that sat by the couch's armrest.

"You came back." She stated quietly.

"Yeah."

There was a moment more of silence.

"Why?"

He felt his stomach twist at her innocent inquiry. This conversation was heading dangerously close into some very not cool territory.

"Because..." He answered blankly, not quite sure how to continue.

"Because why?"

He growled lightly, holding his tongue. He wanted nothing more then to go to bed and forget the whole fiasco, but he had been the one that had marched out in a huff... But still, she was making it more difficult then it had to be.

"Just because." He replied gruffly. She didn't seem satisfied.

"I want to know why you came back here, Soul." She asked a little more strongly, like she had made up her mind about something.

Damn.

"I came back because..." His hand raised to the back of his head, scratching it nervously as he tried to find words that would describe what he was feeling without it sounding like some corny soap opera special. He realised that his cheeks were traitorously beginning to darken and he ducked his head in hope that she wouldn't notice. "Because I wanted to... I left and thought about it a bit and... I wanted to come back. If that's alright."

When Maka didn't reply for over a minute Soul sighed, letting his hands fall to his sides. He could take the hint.

He turned, moving towards the door and reaching out to twist that handle for the last time. His stomach lurched violently at the thought.

Who knew the thought of never seeing that flat chested bookworm would be so... Painful.

"I'm glad you did."

His hand paused. Surely he couldn't have heard that correctly.

"I'm glad you came back, Soul." She said, her voice unsteady as if unsure of how to word it. "I was afraid you weren't going to. I thought maybe I had pushed it too far." She laughed darkly, her words surprisingly thick. "It wouldn't be the first time I had done something idiotic like that." She cleared her throat. "But I'm... Really happy you came back Soul."

He twisted to look at her over his shoulder, surprised to find her staring so hard at the floor that she almost appeared to be going cross-eyed. When he remained speechless, she hesitantly raised her gaze to look at him. When she realised he was staring her own cheeks darkened and her eyes shot to the floor again, her hands beginning to fiddle nervously with the blanket she had on her lap.

"You're welcome to stay here as long as you want to, Soul." She muttered, flustered. "I know I'm not the best roommate or anything but... You can be here as long as you want to. This can be your apartment too."

Slowly, a grin dawned on his face. Although she wasn't looking, she must have sensed it because the smallest of smiles came to her as well.

"Alright, cool." He answered, sticking his hands in his pockets in an attempt to steer the atmosphere to something a little more normal. "I'll stick around for a while. This place isn't so bad."

Her eyes shot up defensively, flashing brilliant emerald in the dim lighting. "This doesn't mean that the rules don't apply anymore Soul!" She shouted sharply, her hands clenching. "You're still not making a mess of my house!"

"But it is my house too, right?" Soul smirked, leaning against the wall and lazily kicking off his shoes, watching her disapproving gaze as they landed in a very untidy fashion, strewn across the entryway. "So I get some freedom now."

"Until you start paying your way you don't." Sniffed Maka haughtily, standing and wrapping her blanket around her small form, walking purposefully to her door. "Now that you're home, I'm heading to bed. Some of us don't sleep in till one in the afternoon."

"Maybe you should try it sometime." He suggested, walking over to his own door and yawning widely, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. "Might loosen you up a little, you're so uptight all the time."

"I am not!" She snapped behind him, opening her door with a _pop_. She took a step in but froze, glancing over her should briefly. "Good night, Soul."

"...Good night Maka."

He didn't miss the relieved smile that came to her face before she closed the door behind her.


	7. Stuck

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Soul Eater manga, anime or anything else. This fic is fanmade and purely for enjoyment, just like everything else on this site.

**Authors Note: **I can only imagine how frustrating it would be to have such great skills and partnership and never be able to actually use it. Just so you guys are aware, this chapter is rather short so I hope to update in the next few days.

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><p>Maka focused intensely on the weapon that spun around her fingers, beads of sweat running down her back and her muscles screaming from use that they were still adjusting to. Her breath came in even pants as she focused on her body's movements, allowing them to grow more complicated as time passed to the point of the scythe blurring in her hands, yet instinctually, she knew how to handle it, her fingers managing to perform movements that her eyes couldn't track.<p>

Ever since she and Soul had discovered their ability to act as weapon and meister, they hadn't been able to resist the urge to practice and increase their skills, regardless of the fact that they would most likely never have the chance to use them. It was a calling that neither of them could ignore.

Deciding that she was ready, Maka tossed three apples into the air, watching where they hovered for just a split second before she swiftly sliced the trio of them directly in half. Gravity began to pull them back downwards, arching slightly due to the force of her blow. She reached forward with the blade, scooping them from underneath and managing to catch all six pieces. She breathed heavily, her eyes disbelieving at what she had managed to accomplish.

She laughed happily as she observed her work, looking down at the reflection in the blade in jubilation.

"See that Soul? We did it!" She said excitedly, bouncing slightly on her heels in an uncharacteristic show of childlike joy, her eyes shining with excitement and pride. "Can you believe it! We finally did it!"

He shot her his trademark shark tooth grin, amused by her show. "Yeah, it was kinda hard for me to miss."

"Yeah, I guess so." She said, turning sheepish but successfully keeping an embarrassed blush from her face. She breathed deeply again to calm herself. Maka reminded herself that in the big picture, it was not too impressive compared to what her Mama and Papa had once been capable of. At the thought, her mood began to spiral downwards as quickly as it had skyrocketed. No matter what she did, she would never be that good...

Maka's gaze turned serious. "I wish we had something to practice on, though. Something that actually moved on its own, then we would really make some progress..."

Soul's expression fell, turning reproachful at his meister's words, wary. "And where would we get that, Maka?"

She sighed, allowing the apple slices to fall to the floor. "I don't know. It's not like we could practice out in the streets. Maybe we could ask Kid or Black Star to help us out some time?"

Soul turned human once more, almost looking relieved but quickly covering it before Maka could really take notice. "Right. Hey, do you mind if I eat one of these?"

"You don't even like apple." She pointed out as he grabbed the fruit, licking his chops.

"Yeah, but I'm hungry."

"Glutton." She accused. He shrugged indifferently, taking a bite out of the slice and ignoring the juice that ran down his chin.


	8. Humiliation

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Soul Eater manga, anime or anything else. This fic is fanmade and purely for enjoyment, just like everything else on this site.

**Authors Note: **A faster update! Some hints of interest, some fluff, some jealousy and plenty o' angst, something that will be coming up in chapters. This was originally going to be two seperate chapters, but I decided since most of them have been so short, I would put them together in one.

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><p>"DAMMIT!"<p>

Maka's pen paused in midthought, the girl tilting her head as she listened to the loud crash coming from her kitchen. She flinched at the vibration that ran through the floor, wondering what on earth he could be doing in there. She looked to her bedroom door that she had shut not half an hour earlier in confusion before pushing her chair back and tiptoing over.

She turned the knob and slowly pulled it open, giving her a clear view of the dining area. It also gave her a clear view of Soul in her flowery blue apron, covered head to toe in flour and something she could only assume was egg.

She stared for a moment, her eyes going wide in disbelief before the image began to really sink in. Her cheeks ballooned suddenly as she tried to stifle her giggles, a small _'pfft'_ sound escaping her as she continued to watch.

Soul stood over the counter, his eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration as he attempted to break an egg. Judging from her almost empty carton, one that had been full this morning, it was something that he wasn't quite as successful at as he hoped.

She watched as he gripped the oval object carefully but firmly and rapped it on the edge of the metal bowl he had in place. When no crack appeared, he tried again with no success. The last time he tried, he hit a tad too hard, causing the shell to shatter and coat his hand in the slimy substance.

She saw him bite back a curse, flicking his hand in the sink and grumbling to himself. As he turned away, the corner of his apron caught on the carton and the eggs teetered on the edge of the counter, threatening to fall to the ground before allowing gravity to pull them down. At the tug on his clothing, he turned to try and catch them unsuccessfully, his foot landing conveniently in the slimy mess the suicidal eggs had created, and slipped, falling to the ground. His hand shot out in an attempt to catch himself on the counter, only to grab the bowl that had his single successful egg and flour mixture inside. It flipped at the impact and landed soundly on his head, clanging mockingly as it did so.

Maka walked queitly out of her room, wondering if perhaps his delayed reaction on the tile was because he hurt himself, or if it was just out of embarressment from his antics. She realised it was option B when she reached him.

"So damn uncool." He mumbled, pulling the bowl off his head and tossing it violently in the sink. He tried to wipe the egg out of his eyes with little success, all the while muttering a string of colorful words in frustration. She finally took pity of him and gabbed a napkin from her rack.

She knelt down and gently pushed his hands away from his face, an action that made him freeze in his tracks. She could have sworn he didn't take a single breath the entire time she wiped the mixture off his face. She tried her best to keep her laughter down, although it constantly threatened to bubble from her throat. It was rare to see Soul make this sort of mistake. It was nice to know she wasn't the only one that looked like a clumsy fool at times.

"Alright, I think you're good." She chimed cheerfully. He opened his eyes blurily to look at her before pulling his headband down to cover them again. If she didn't know better, she could of sworn there was a slight tint of pink to his cheeks.

He moved to stand, grumbling about wet floors and the dangers they pose when it comes to household falls before trying to shove the egg carton away so she didn't notice how many were missing. It was then he realised that there were none left and he released a small groan, determindly looking away from her.

She sighed, pulling the carton from his hands and rolling up her sleeves, a wry smile on her face.

"Alright, do you want to learn how to do this?" She questioned, ignoring the deepening color in his cheeks and washing her hands before grabbing an extra carton from the fridge. When he didn't reply, she grabbed his sleeve and pulled him beside her.

"First, it's not a stress ball." She explained, placing the egg in his hands and folding his fingers correctly down over it. "I mean, I guess you could do it using your way, but this is easier so I'll teach it to you."

She moved up behind him, grabbing the bowl in one hand and his hand in her other. "Now, hold the bowl and..." She paused, glancing up at the back of his head. "Don't be so stiff Soul. You're going to break it like that. Oh, and you hold the bowl too." She felt him force himself to loosen, his hand moving beside hers to grasp the bowl and she continued. "Now, just rap it against the edge like this!"

She moved their hands sharply, not pushing to hard. The egg gave a satisfying crack, moving directly up the center and allowing the contents inside to fall smoothly into the bowl. She smiled, releasing him and moving to his side, proud of their handiwork.

"See, no problem!" She announced, looking at him. Her expression fell at the tightness of his. Maybe she had pushed him a little too far, but really, she had done plenty of embarresing things in front of him so she didn't see what the big deal was. "Soul, is something wrong?"

He jolted, turning to look at her quickly, a reassuring look coming to his face. "Nah, I was just thinking about how uncool it was for a guy to not only cook, but fail at doing it."

Maka waved her hand breezily, walking back to her room. "No way. Girls love a guy who at least tries to cook Soul!"

"Yeah, I know." He muttered as her door shut again, moving back to the eggs, his hands still hot where she had touched him.

* * *

><p>"Soul, I don't know about this... It's kind of reckless." Maka murmered self conciously, rubbing her bare shoulders. A red halter top and a black skirt were not her style, although this outfit was far better then some of the others that Liz had been trying to talk her into. The skirt was actually a bit longer then her usual one and yet, she felt more exposed then normal. Liz and Tsubaki had insisted that she looked amazing, but she couldn't help but feel that such normally flattering clothes were lost on her... <em>Underdevloped<em> figure. Not that she would ever admit it out loud.

She had to say, though, that Soul looked rather nice tonight. Even in the dark club illuminated only by various flashing lights, he was an attention grabber. When she noticed that it wasn't only her attention he drew, it made her feel... Well, she didn't know what she felt. It made her blood pressure rise and something hot clawed inside her chest, an unpleasant sensation mixing anger, frustration and an odd feeling of sadness. She didn't have much time to dwell on the feeling, though, as her nervous churning stomach was what held her attention more now.

"Maka, you need to learn to live a little." He told her with a wicked grin, pulling her towards him by her hand and laughing, watching as she glanced out on the grinding teens surrounding them with an expression that showed she was only a few seconds away from being sick. "It's not even a big club and you were the one that took Black Star up on his offer, remember?"

Her expression tightened as she shot a glare in the boys direction, not surprised to see him already drunk out of his mind and passed out on a table not too far off, an exhausted Tsubaki fretting over his unconcious form.

"Of course I did, he said I didn't know how to have a good time." She snapped coolly, wanting to cross her arms but not quite able to in the position that Soul had skillfully placed her in.

He chuckled lightly, trying to coax her into the rythum of the booming music by swaying slightly, but she wasn't having any part of it. "And you took him seriously? Like he could even tell right now anyways."

Maka sighed, looking up at him in embarressment. "I've always been one to have a quick temper, I guess."

Soul used his free hand to rub the back of his neck, a grimace coming on his face. "Yeah, I noticed."

"You haven't seen anything yet." She teased, smiling slightly and allowing him to lead for just a few moments. He was putting in too much of an effort to not at least give him a single dance.

They didn't seem to notice that they were swaying to the pounding techno music, instead just losing themselves in conversation and ignoring the animalistic lust that filled the air around them. Every now and then she would accidently step on his foot and apologise, but he would always pull her back with a casual hand and that velvety voice of his. He was so warm, so comforting and so much fun to be around. He was like no one else she had ever met before, and those eyes... They were so beautiful...

"I'm going to go get a drink." She said suddenly, gesturing to her mouth. "It's so warm in here, do you want anything Soul?"

He shook his head, almost looking the slightest bit dissapointed for a second, but it dissapeared so quickly that she thought it must have been her imagination. "Nah, let me get it."

"Are you sure?"

He gave her a two fingered salute and a quick grin before turning to the bar. She sighed, sitting down on some of the many chairs surrounding the dance floor. Sure, it was warm, but surely it wasn't _this_ warm. She sighed, fanning herself and scanning the crowd. Kid, Patty and Liz had already left after Patty managed to get her hand on a particularily strong couple of drinks, something that was not a good combination. Kid never really cared for coming to clubs anyway, Liz mentioned that a lot of people pointed out the stripes in his hair, asking where he got such a cool dye job, something that would send the poor boy wallowing in depression for the rest of the night. Black Star and Tsubaki were still in the same place as before, although it seemed now that the 'boy who would surpass the Gods' was having trouble holding down his liquor, emptying his stomach over the edge of a table.

She turned her gaze back to where Soul had gone and immediately felt the temperature of the room shoot up another ten degrees.

A young pretty brunette sitting at the bar was holding his arm and... Rubbing it against her. To his credit, he did look like he was trying to politely brush her off, but it did nothing to cool the fury that was now ripping through her chest.

She marched forward and she was nearly on them before she could actually hear what was being said.

"Listen, I really do need to go." He told her calmly, going to pull his arm away again and ignoring the small moan she gave in hopes of keeping him there.

"Oh, come on, stay here and have some fun!" She simpered, gazing up at him through her lashes and pouting. "I'm more fun then any of the other little girls here..." She allowed her sentence to trail suggestively.

_Oh, that was it!_

"Excuse me!" Maka interrupted, grabbing Soul's other arm, nearly knocking her drink out of his hand in the process and ignoring as he looked down at her in surprise. "I'm afraid he's supposed to come and keep me company, so I'm going to have to steal him from you." She gestured briefly to the glass in his hand. "He actually came over to get me a drink."

Her brown eyes roved over her harshly for a moment before smiling at Soul once more. "Like I said sweetie, I'm a lot more fun then any little girls that are here, so how ab-"

"Listen, I already told you, he's coming with me!"

She glanced at Maka, obviously not backing down from this catch. "Why don't you let him speak for himself? What are you, his little sister or something?"

Maka bristled. "Hey, who do you think you a-"

"Hey." Soul's voice smoothly interrupted, causing Maka to glare up at him as he kept his eyes on the brunette, "Once upon a time, I would have taken you up on that offer in a second, but right now, I can't. So I'm just going to go with her now, alright?"

The brunette stubbornly refused. "C'mon, you know you want to..."

He sighed deeply as he felt Maka's grip on his arm tighten. He turned to look at her and it felt like someone had just punched him in the stomach.

Her eyes were mysteriously wet.

What the hell...?

At his stunned silence, her grip fell from him, her eyes now firmly on the floor. "Fine, do whatever you want."

Before he could get a word out, she turned and fled, melting into the crowd of grinding bodies.

"Hey, Maka!" Ignoring the brunettes protest, he yanked his arm from her grip and followed his meister. "Maka!"

There were people everywhere, moving and changing, a sea of strangers and blank, drunken faces. It took him a few moments to find the ashy blonde head bobbing through the crowd and towards the exit.

He pushed through the people, ignoring the indignant shouts of people who got in his way and burst through the exit after her, slamming against the door and stumbling into the street. She stood just beside the door, doe eyed and surprised by his extreme exit.

"Soul?" She questioned, stepping towards him. "What are you doing?"

He breathed a sigh of relief. At least she wasn't crying.

"What was that?" He demanded, placing his arms on the wall on either side of her to prevent her from escaping again. He had to admit, she looked completely unintimidated by the move and me his gaze evenly, albeit still looking a little baffled. "You didn't even give me a chance to say no."

She folded her arms in a huff, her expression turning frosty. "So you expect me to believe that you would have turned her down? She was very pretty Soul, I think I may have accidently cheated you out of a good night."

He gawked at her, frustration getting the better of him, feeling a little hurt at her lack of trust. "What the hell Maka? I haven't done a damn thing and here I am getting the cold shoulder?"

She remained silent, infuriating him more. He pulled himself off the wall, running his hands through his hair in exhasperation. "I didn't do anything. I haven't done anything for the past six monthes. Since Black Star gave me that beer, I haven't had a single drink or even stepped a toe over the line. Do you have any idea how many times I've had to turn down the temptation because I'm afraid of screwing up and ending up right back where I was? Now you're treating me like I can't be trusted with turning down a random chick at a bar!"

When she didn't deny it he felt his hands turn to fists and his teeth clench. What was wrong with this woman?

"I wouldn't have done it, Maka."

There was a few seconds of hesitation and he almost thought she wouldn't answer.

"Do you mean that?"

"Yes!" He shouted, frustrated. "I wouldn't have fucking touched her and I don't need you getting on my case for something that I didn't even do!"

"Sorry."

Soul did a double take, almost not believing the word had come from her. She had admitted she was wrong before but _that_ word was one that he rarely heard fall from her lips. "Wait, what?"

"I said I'm sorry, Soul." Maka repeated, not looking at him and much to his dismay, he noticed a faint quiver in her voice. "I reached some conclusions without really thinking it through, I didn't mean to make you upset. I'm sorry."

Disarmed, he stuck his hands in his pockets and turned away, confusion getting the better of him. "Whatever. It's cool."


	9. Her

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Soul Eater manga, anime or anything else. This fic is fanmade and purely for enjoyment, just like everything else on this site.

**Authors Note: **Hmm, and here comes some major angst... Hmm, I'm not really satisfied with how this turned out though. I rewrote it probably 4 times before I settled. Tell me what you think...

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><p>"Hey, Soul?"<p>

"Yeah?"

She paused, second guessing herself before she timidly put down her fork, then picked it up again, obviously unsure of how to come at the situation. Perhaps she was just being too nosy? "No, nevermind."

He chuckled, glancing over at her from across the table and swallowing the food he had shoveled into his mouth. "Now you just went and made me curious. C'mon Maka, what is it?"

She fidgeted nervously, moving the food on her plate around with a fork. "Why did you leave home?"

Everything in him froze, the silence in the room suddenly deafening. His eyes became wary as he looked at her. "Why does that matter?"

She shrugged, her eyes set firmly on her plate in an utter refusal to look at him and he could tell she was regretting even bringing it up. "It doesn't really matter, I guess. I was just wondering, that's all."

They lapsed into an awkward silence, neither eating anymore and the sound of forks scraping porcelain filling the air. He felt his stomach tighten in response. Sure, it makes sense that she would want to know, he'd been here for almost a year now and she had no idea about his life before. But that was something he would really rather not discuss... He would really rather forget it all, to be honest...

"My father used to cheat on my mother."

Soul jumped slightly, looking over at her in surprise as her voice cracked through the silence like a gunshot, even though she was speaking barely above a whisper. She continued to manuever her her fork around, not looking at him but obviously deep in thought.

"She left when I was young. I can barely even recall her face, to be honest. But I can still see the night she left, clear as day."

"I remember her yelling at him, as usual, and he just sort of stood there and took it. She went into her room and threw everything into a suitcase and left. Just like that. No goodbye, no telling us where she was going, no nothing. She was just... Gone. I never saw her again after that." She looked at him briefly, a cruel smile twisting on her face, all light gone from her normally lively eyes. The expression simply looked wrong on Maka. It sent a shiver down his spine.

"She was a meister and he was her weapon, you see. A scythe, like you. I thought that their bond was stronger then what it really had been. They always told me about times when they were allowed to be partners openly and they loved each other a lot, but after the rebellion, it all changed. They both got restless and took it out in different ways. For Papa, it was sleeping around. For Mama, it was fighting with Papa. I guess it just got to a point where it wasn't enough anymore. I really should have seen it coming, they could barely stand to even be in the same room with each other and I spent most nights huddled into my bed sheets, trying to block out their screaming. I knew I was the only thing that held them together that long. I guess you could say I was the main reason they were both so miserable. They felt responsible for me and felt it was unfair to leave their child with a single parent. I guess everyone has a breaking point, though, and Mama had finally reached hers."

She took a deep breath. "We moved into an apartment, a bit bigger then this one, and I spent a lot of nights alone. He would go out for hours at a time and would come home smelling like liquor and drunk out of his mind. Sometimes he even brought women with him. I would just turn up the radio and try to ignore the sounds that came from his bedroom."

"Despite all the drinking and the depression I knew he was going through, he never once raised his voice at me or mistreated me in any way. In fact, he spent most time when he was sober apologising to me, telling me how much he loved me and how precious I was to him. He really did try, I think. But I was still so angry at him. Why weren't Mom and I good enough for him? Why did he have to go out every night and leave us alone? Even when I didn't have Mom, he still... Still left me. Alone. Every single night."

"I put up with it for a few years, just letting that anger build and hardly ever leaving the house. Papa thought I was safer where no one could see me and realise what I was. Money was never an issue, Mama and Papa had stockpiled plenty before the rebellion, one of the first things they taught me was how to get access to it. He would often try to spoil me with material things. I loved to read and Papa would often bring books back. I would spend days just immersing myself into other times and places, allowing myself to forget what life was really like. It was comforting, knowing that everything wasn't as bad as it seemed. That maybe... Maybe my story, like so many of the ones I read, would have a happy ending." She laughed darkly, shaking her head and taking a small bite of potato that had long gone cold.

"I wasn't allowed to go to school. Papa said it was risky with my abilities and to make up for that, he often brought me home textbooks. I loved learning and taught myself so many things. I wanted to go to school so badly and I didn't really think of the consequences this would have, of what Papa was trying so hard to protect me from. It was just another thing that Papa deprived me of. I hated it."

"One night, he came home sober but with another woman. I got upset. That surprised him, I think. I usually just went and hid away in my room but something in me snapped and I knew that I had had enough."

"I yelled at him like Mama used to. I didn't hold anything back either, throwing every single venomous word and cutting insult I could think of without a second thought. He never said anything back, just sat there with this shocked, pitiful look on his face. I was furious. I wanted him to fight back and defend himself, not just take it like the pathetic shell he had become since Mama left. But he kept his silence, perhaps waiting for me to tire myself out and calm down a little. But I didn't. I ran out of the house, looking for some way just to get away from him. He chased me down not long after and he talked me into coming home. Told me that he would try to be a better Papa and spend more time with me. I didn't believe him, but it was cold and dark and I just wanted to go home and shut myself in my room. On the way home, some thugs cornered us. He tried to smooth talk his way out of it but had no luck and in the end, one of them grabbed my arm and started to drag me off."

"Papa turned his arms into scythes and cut off the hand of the guy that had grabbed me. He started screaming, but even with all the noise, I still distinctly remember Papa telling me to run. I hesitated, but he yelled at me again so I went off a short distance, just around a corner and into an alleyway so I could still watch but I didn't think anyone would find me."

"All the noise attracted people, they called the cops. They cornered him, all the lights shining down on him as he begged for mercy. I remember seeing the tears, there were so many. He pleaded and got down on the cement, begging for his life. I hoped they would show him mercy. I wanted nothing more then to go out and tell them to leave him alone. He may have been a cheating liar, but he was still my Papa and nothing he had done had made him deserve this fear. This humiliation. This cruelty. And just as I moved from my hiding spot, one of the officers fired. Then another... And another... Until Papa stopped moving."

Soul felt his body force him to breathe, something that he didn't think he'd done for a few minutes. He looked down at his plate of still cold food, his mind working rapidly to process what she was telling him. It sure made a lot of things make sense now...

"Well, after that, I ended up back home and I guess I really should have run, but I didn't. The girl he had brought home had left long ago and I just sat in my room and waited for something to happen. Maybe the police would beat down my door or a SWAT team would crash through the windows, coming to take me into custody or for execution. I had no idea what to expect. When no one came for a few days, I supposed the coast was clear and just continued living. I remember hoping that one day Papa would come stumbling through that door again, mumbling to himself before collapsing on the couch. Even though I watched him die out there, all by himself, alone and afraid... I still hoped that he would come home. It was two months before it finally sunk in that he wasn't coming back."

Her mouth twisted, a look a deep grief entering her eyes. "All those times I sat there and waited, cursing him for leaving me by myself and it took until he really had left me to realise what true loneliness felt like." She sighed, her breath shuddering slightly.

"I tried to commit suicide once. It just flashed down on me that I was completely alone in the world. The one person that I had always counted on, whether I knew it or not, was gone." She flashed her wrist to him and pointed to a scar he had never really noticed before. A line so thin and white that it was almost not even there unless it shone just right in the light, something so small and seemingly insignificant that you would have to know it was there to even see it and yet, it represented so much.

It made him feel sick. His Maka, the brilliant, brave, intelligent girl before him... Trying to kill herself? It was simply unfathomable to him.

"I was an idiot. I sat there for over and hour, holding that blade to my wrist. I finally worked up the... Well, I wouldn't call it courage, I suppose motivation would be a better word? Either way, I finally found it in myself to try, to rid myself of this agony of an existence. Of living in the apartment and never going outside. Of not being allowed to live as I liked because I could see things other people couldn't. Of being alone. And yet, all I could make was a shallow little slice. It bled a little, a few pricks of red coming to the surface, not nearly enough to kill me. I just didn't truly have it in me. Deep down, I know I want to live."

"When I think about it, my logic was idiotic. I wanted to kill myself after what Papa had just went through, sacrificing himself so I could live. What a selfish, ignorant, pathetic person I was. I decided, though, that I would force myself to change. I would get stronger and I would not allow anyone or anything to stand in my way anymore. I would get better."

"I couldn't stay in that place, constantly reminding me that I had no one else to turn to. That everything I had ever known was gone because I had to get over emotional and run out there. So I got the money that Papa had stored and moved here." She smiled lightly, although it didn't quite reach her eyes. "It was here that I found the others. Tsubaki, Kid, Liz, Patty... Even Black Star. I don't know what I would have done without them. I still don't know why I came here, but something about this place puts my soul at ease. It might just be knowing that there are others here who carry the same burden I do. So, I stay."

She looked up, glancing at his plate and picking up her own. "Well, I guess I should start washing the dishes. Are you done, Soul?"

"Yeah." He replied faintly and he did nothing as she took his dish and turned on the sink.

He sat in silence long after Maka went to bed.


	10. Him

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Soul Eater manga, anime or anything else. This fic is fanmade and purely for enjoyment, just like everything else on this site.

**Authors Note: **More angst, but we do get Soul's past, so hopefully that makes up for my lack of recent updates!

* * *

><p>"My brother Wes was a prodigy."<p>

Maka turned her gaze up from her book, surprised at the sound of his voice breaking they quiet they had been sitting in for almost an hour. They lounged together on the couch, Soul lazily watching some random television reality show and Maka curled up in the corner, her book resting on her legs and leaning against a small pillow on the armrest.

Soul ignored her baffled look, his eyes glazed slightly in memories. "He played the violin. Everyone thought he was amazing and he really was. His music was beautiful and flawless, something that I could only dream of being capable of creating. It was the sort of sound that made people stop and listen, no matter what they were doing before. He had that ability, to get the attention of anyone and everyone around him."

"It wasn't long at all before he was famous in the music world, as if being an Evans didn't cause that already. Mom and the old man were both famous musicians when they were younger and when it came to retire, Wes went right up and maintained their legacy. As his younger brother, the same was expected of me. My parents went straight to work on teaching me how to play the piano."

"I'm not going to lie and say I hated learning it, that I disliked music because my parents were only using it as another way to make me into another Wes, because honestly... I loved playing piano. I love music. It was something that I was good at and I could memorise it just as quickly as Wes, but I guess I just wasn't as good. I would sometimes make mistakes or I wouldn't practice enough or I would want to try different pieces from what I was supposed to memorise, it was always something. I could tell I was a disappointment to my parents, especially my father. The old man and I didn't get along. Mom was more understanding, but just by a bit, not that it really mattered all that much. I know that with both parents, Wes would always be the favourite. I was second born, second best."

Soul's mouth twisted grimly as he continued. "It wasn't until I was twelve that my old man asked me to compose my own piece. He said that Wes had done it at nine, so I was long overdue and he wanted to see what kind of skill I had as a composer. I was so stupid. I thought that maybe, just maybe, if I made an amazing piece of music I could make him praise me. To tell me what a great kid I was and see him and Mom smile for my songs like they did for Wes's. That maybe this could be my chance to shine."

"I worked endlessly, tirelessly on my music. I dreamed of writing music and of playing the piano. I knew that if I tried, that if I expressed myself, I could do it. I could outshine Wes. I could finally be more then just Wes's younger brother. I could be Soul Evans. I could show them who I was."

He chuckled coldly, his stare turning blank. "I brought my parents and Wes into the piano room. I remember feeling so excited as I sat down and fingered those keys I had grown to know so well. I would show them that I wasn't just second best, that I could be as good as Wes if I really tried. I started playing my piece and no one interrupted until I was finished. Of course, I assumed they were in awe of my talents. I remember smiling and looking up at my Mother."

"She was horrified."

"My old man was furious. He asked me what kind of stunt I was trying to pull and told me to never play like that in public again. It would tarnish the Evan's name beyond repair. He sent me off to my room for the rest of the night. He couldn't even look at me. I just didn't get it, what had I done?"

"I snuck out later to talk to them, maybe apologise for whatever I had done to upset them. I listened to my parents talking through the door to their room. Twisted, dismal, sinister, terrifying... All words my mother used to describe my playing. I didn't understand. How could something I had worked so hard on be that bad?"

"I wanted to prove them wrong. It was just them who thought it was bad, other people would love it. I was so sure of it. I waited for the next public recital and instead of playing the music they had planned for me, I played my music."

"It... Went badly. People thought my music spoke of insanity, of darkness, the polar opposite to the beauty and light my brother presented. People were scared of me. I mean, people had been scared of me before because of how I looked. I took more after my grandfather then either of my parents and that had always made people edgy. But now they were convinced that I was twisted inside and out. My parents took away my piano as punishment."

"I was furious, more with myself then with anyone else. I sat in the courtyard outside the mansion on one of the benches and tried to force myself to calm down. Wes came out and tried to tell me not to let this get me down. We had never been close, but he seemed to be sympathising. He told me that he felt sorry for me, that our parents had overreacted. That just pissed me off even more. As if perfect little Wes could ever understand what I was going through."

"I started yelling at him, said some things I really didn't mean and he started yelling back. He took a step forward to put his hand on my shoulder and I went to shove him back. I didn't want to be anywhere near him. I really have no idea how it happened, it was all so fast. My arm transformed. I cut him."

"We both stood there in shock and then... He started screaming. My parents came out and looked between us. I was in shock, all that blood on the ground, on Wes, on me... I didn't know where it had come from or what the hell had happened. I glanced up at my parents. I was waiting for anger, maybe disgust. Those were expressions I was used to seeing from them. I never expected the fear. The way the color left their faces as they looked at my arm. They way they stood in front of Wes like they had to protect him from me, like I had meant to do what I did. I think my mom was only seconds away from being sick and my father... He didn't even have an expression. He just stared at me like he had no idea who or what I was."

"They rushed Wes to the hospital and I sat in the house, waiting for news. I was there for hours in the dark, hoping for the phone to ring with news, for someone to walk through that door, maybe even to wake up and realise that it had all been one freaky nightmare. I never meant to hurt him. I really didn't mean to. I was just so pissed off and I had no idea... No idea I could even do that. I knew there was weapon blood in our family, my grandfather was a famous scythe but it had skipped my parents generation and Wes as well, so they assumed it would skip me too."

Maka watched as Soul clenched his hand, his knuckles turning white in an effort to hold back the emotion the memories were bringing him. The image of a young boy with red eyes flashed in her mind, afraid of things that were happening to him and horrified at something he had done that was out of his control, sitting in the dark waiting for someone, anyone to notice. The thought made her heart throb painfully.

"When morning came, my father walked through the door alone. There was no greeting, no emotion on his face. Just a few simple words. 'Wes can never play the violin again'. I felt like I was going to throw up. I never, ever would have wished for that. Even though I was always bitter about Wes's skills, I knew he loved music just as much as I did, it was a part of him. I begged and pleaded with him, hoping for him to understand and realise that this was not what I wanted. I apologised over and over, I wanted to go see Wes and tell him how sorry I was. But my father didn't listen. He just told me to leave. He didn't raise his voice or hit me or threaten me... Just told me to leave the house and never come back."

"So I packed a backpack of stuff, and I did. I never looked back."

Soul shrugged now, clicking off the tv with a sigh. "So, I bounced around and managed to survive somehow. The first week was easily the worst." He gestured to his chest, making a diagonal motion that outlined his scar. "Went around asking help from the wrong people. Turns out, some people living in the slums don't appreciate some little punk looking for sympathy and they taught me that lesson real quick. It nearly killed me but I made it to a small clinic in time. Some freak named Professor Stein stitched me up and in return, he studied me."

"He was like you, he could tell what I was the second he saw me. Said he'd never gotten to study a weapon before. He never asked who I was or how it happened, nor did he ever ask for anything in return. When I left, we never saw each other again." He gave a short laugh. "I've debated going back to thank him, but even after all he did for me, I got to admit, the guy still creeps me out."

He sighed heavily, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling in thought. "I think people still think I'm with my family which is probably the only reason I haven't had cops tracking me down like a rabid dog. I guess my folks thought that letting anyone know what happened, what I really was, would only hurt their reputation more, especially now that Wes can't play. I was just more trouble then I was worth."

"It wasn't your fault." Maka stated simply, her voice slightly hoarse from the clot in her throat.

Soul looked over at her, his expression chilled but not angry. Just tired. "Yeah, it was. If I wasn't such an emotional little brat all of it never would have happened."

"It wasn't your fault." She repeated, more firmly this time, her eyes holding his own evenly.

"I don't need your damn pity on this Maka." Soul spat suddenly, his eyes narrowing. "I've already come to terms with what I did. I know it was my fault. Everything was my fault."

"It's not pity." She said quietly, looking down and fingering a page in her book. "What happened was terrible. But it really was out of your control. You're parents should have been more responsible, they shouldn't have left you alone, especially after what happened." She paused and, much to her disappointment, felt her eyes begin to moisten. "Parents should never leave their kids alone like that."

When she looked up at him again, Soul felt himself start to panic, all previous bitterness promptly flushed from his system when her noticed her eyes starting to well with unshed tears. "H-Hey, don't cry!"

"It's not fair!" She shouted, her hands clenching her book furiously, "We don't choose to be like this and yet... It's not fair that everyone's abandoned both of us! Both of us, they left us all alone Soul. That's not right."

A tear raced down her cheek and she swiped at it angrily, throwing the book down in favor of trying to hide that she was crying. "You didn't choose to be a weapon, Soul. You didn't know what you were doing and that was a lot to take in. Despite that, they still threw you out and that's not right. Just because you were unique, because you were different from your brother..."

"M-Maka, hey, don't cry..."

"I'm not crying!" She shouted, turning her face away. "It's allergies, all this darned dust, I have to clean the house..."

She sniffed, wiping her eyes again and tried to still her trembling form. Soul sighed, watching her, the smallest of smiles coming to his face.

His hand came forward and she froze as he thumbed her cheek, wiping away a tear. "It's fine, Maka. It's all in the past."

She glanced up at him, unconsciously pressing her cheek into the pressure of his hand. "But it's not fine. We're still alone."

He snorted, shaking his head. "You're still going on about that? You've got plenty of people here. You said it yourself. Tsubaki, Kid, Li-"

"But they have their own problems." She interrupted quietly, "I'm not going to bother them. If they decide to leave, I won't stop them. They have to look out for those closest to them. They have their own families to worry about."

He raised an eyebrow, chuckling lightly. "So what about me, huh? Can't you rely on me for anything now?"

She sniffed, her tears almost stopped once more although the emotions continued to churn furiously in the pit of her stomach. Since when had she been this emotionally unstable? It had been years since she cried last, and yet here Soul was, tearing down her barriers like they were made of paper. All it took was one look from him to send her spiralling out of control, although she had managed to hide it jut fine to this point. "I..."

"I trust you, Maka." He told her slowly, "More then anyone else. You're not alone as long as I'm alive. You're my meister, right?"

She gave him a small, hesitant smile. Something in his voice told her that his words were genuine and it made her heart flutter in her chest. "Yes... I trust you too, Soul."

She couldn't help but give a small giggle as he shot her that shark-toothed grin that he always reserved just for her, although it seemed to be different. Softer. "Damn right. You've got the coolest partner around, we have to look out for each other, even if no one else will. Right?"

As his hand fell, she grasped it in both her hands, a genuine smile coming to her face. "Right."

She turned, leaning her shoulder against him. He froze for a moment, his muscles stiffening at her uncharacteristic show of intimacy, before slowly relaxing and laying his hand over her shoulder. Maka sighed lightly, suddenly content and focusing on the pleasant thrum of his soul.

For the first time in years, she knew she wasn't alone.


	11. Challenge

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Soul Eater manga, anime or anything else. This fic is fanmade and purely for enjoyment, just like everything else on this site.

**Authors Note: **Sorry for no realy updates lately, work has been insane and I've only gotten around 4 hours sleep in 3 days... *Sigh*.

* * *

><p>Maka stood on the edge of the building, looking down the five story drop as her toes suspended over the edge, curiously watching the shadows from the clouds drift along the streets. The wind whipped through her hair, sending it wildly in all directions and thankful that she had placed it in her trademark pigtails. She never did mind the feeling of being high and the top of the building did provide a unique perspective on the streets that were winding below. She was thankful that her building was the tallest in the area and surrounded by a number of tall trees that obstructed the view from any possible nosy neighbours.<p>

She stepped back from the egde, holding her enormous weapon in a firm grip. She began her routine of different, complicated moves, being sure to keep her breathing calm and even, her heartbeat melding with Soul's as their soul's connected. Learning where her hands should be in each transition, battling off invisible opponents with strong movements in quick succession, one would hardly believe the nerves that churned wildly in her stomach. As she finished, her hands stilled and she breathed deeply, relaxing her body. When she was calmed, she glanced down at him in confusion.

"Huh, I wonder if why you feel lighter then usual?" Maka questioned, testing the weight of the rod in her hand. "We were definitely moving faster then normal, there were a couple of times that I almost wasn't able to keep up."

"I don't really feel anything different." Soul replied hesitantly, "Maybe you've just gotten stronger?"

She shook her head. "No, I don't think so... I do remember Mama used to comment on how much heavier Papa got after they had a bad fight. She mentioned that their soul wavelengths didn't sync as well." She laughed excitedly, her eyes hopeful that she was reaching the correct conclusion. "Our soul wavelengths must just be matching better Soul! That's great news!"

"Alright, if you say so."

"Considering that they could have possibly not matched at all, Soul, we're really lucky that our souls are so compatible. Mama would talk a lot about how common it was for meisters to get hurt in a fight because of the added weight of souls that didn't sync as well. Keishin knew how to take advantage of that. Sometimes it was so bad that the weapon would burn the meister, some meisters even started to vomit blood of their wave lengths disagreed enough." Her expression turned thoughtful. "I wonder what ever happened to all those keishin meisters used to hunt. Papa mentioned that they had started getting better at disguising themselves so humans that couldn't sense them thought that they had gone extinct. I wonder if there are still any around?"

"Well, can you sense their souls?" He questioned, curious now. "I mean, if there are still tons around, that would be pretty damn dangerous so their can't be many."

She nodded in agreement. "I've never really tried to track down a keishin soul. I've just searched for weapons, mostly because I had not idea how to handle one even if I did hunt it down. I could give it a try now that I have you though, I guess."

Soul turned back into human form, sticking his hands in his pockets and giving a shrug. "Why not?"

Maka looked at him blankly. "Why not?" She repeated, her eyebrows furrowing in frustration, "There are tons of things that could go wrong Soul! We could end up getting ourselves into some real trouble!"

"How would just knowing the location of one get us in trouble, Maka? We just want to know if there are any of those freaks around, it's not like we're going to go hunt them down in broad daylight or anything. They won't even know we're on to them."

Maka shook her head. "Soul, if I actually did manage to sense one, would you honestly just drop it and leave it at that? I know you, Soul. If I found one, you would want to hunt it down before it could get away, if for nothing else other then to see if we're actually a capable combination."

Soul snorted. "As if you wouldn't want to, too."

Maka's gaze hardened. "I never said I wouldn't because honestly, I'm curious too. But that would be too reckless Soul. It would get us caught." Her gaze to fell to the floor. "We can't allow ourselves to get caught."

Soul's shoulder slumped a little in dissapointment as he moved to the door heading downstairs, waving a hand nonchalantly over his shoulder. "Whatever."


	12. Repeating History

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Soul Eater manga, anime or anything else. This fic is fanmade and purely for enjoyment, just like everything else on this site.

**Authors Note: **Whoo, an update! Although it certainly took long enough...

* * *

><p>Maka laughed, popping another load of pop rocks into her mouth and flinching slightly when a particularly large one burst on her tongue. It sent a small stinging sensation across the muscle that disappeared almost as quickly as she felt it, leaving behind a flavour that the bag described as 'mixed berry'. She opened her mouth slightly, listening to the continuous bursting noises that the candy caused. That was, until one flew out of her mouth, to which she closed it in embarrassment, ignoring Soul's chuckle at her side.<p>

She swallowed, laughing again as Soul dumped an entire bag into his maw, chewing the candy before it even had the chance to explode.

"You're sort of missing the point Soul." Maka chided slightly, her voice carrying a teasing lilt. "Why even buy these if you don't let them pop?"

Soul shrugged non-commitally, opening another bag and dumping even more in. "They still pop, just as their going down. Feels kinda cool in a way."

Maka wrinkled her nose in distaste. "That doesn't sound cool. It sounds gro-"

Maka's voice chocked off, a sinking feeling filling her chest and cutting off her breath for a moment. She froze abruptly, catching Soul's attention immediately. She gasped, clutching the front of her shirt as she broke out in cold sweat, her heartbeat growing erratic as the feeling invaded her, it's force filling her with a sudden panic. Her hands began to quiver, her eyes pinned on the street ahead of her. Soul followed her gaze as he looked down the sidewalk for a threat but as far as he could tell, they were completely alone.

"Maka?" He questioned quietly, trying to remain calm as his meister remained unresponding. "Hey, what is it?"

She didn't reply, closing her eyes and focused on the ominous feeling, attempting to track down the source. It continued to grow, her stomach beginning to churn nervously and she knew it had nothing to do with the exploding candies.

"I... Don't know." She told him quietly. She could almost see it, flickering on the edge of her vision as she tried to pinpoint the cause of her discomfort. Hesitantly, she stepped forward towards the entrance to an alleyway, following the faint flickering light that danced on the edge of her vision. Immediately, the feeling pulsed, flashing through her mind like a bolt of lightening. Certain now, she bolted between the buildings, ignoring the disgusting state of the alley and instead focusing on the dread filling the pit of her stomach. She knew wherever this lead, it wasn't good, but somehow... She felt drawn to it. She had to find where it was coming from.

"Maka!" Soul called out from behind her, running to keep up. His concern raised when she didn't so much as tilt her head to acknowledge him. He quickened his pace to follow.

Somewhere in the depths of her mind, it registered that this was not normal and she should not be heading towards something inspiring such emotion in her, but the keening of that feeling drowned it out. She didn't slow, the call raising in volume as it drew her deeper, appealing to something within her that she never knew was there.

She had to reach it, whatever it was.

Her feet pounded on the cement, her steps echoing around her.

_Faster_, it seemed to urge her, pulling her forward._ Faster!_

_I'm coming_. She replied, the burning in her muscles pushing her on.

She whipped around a corner where her momentum was forced to end when she ran directly into a wall of muscle.

She thudded into the thing hard enough to throw herself backwards from the impact, sending her right off her feet and colliding painfully with the ground on her rear. She winced, rubbing her abused nose and glancing up at the person who had gotten in her way.

"Maka!"

She glanced over her shoulder, as if just realising that Soul was still with her. She blinked slowly, feeling groggy as if she had just woken up. "Soul...? What happened?"

It was then she noticed.

It was gone.

She exhaled in frustration, searching for the feeling and coming up with nothing. It was almost like it had never been there at all.

"Hey!"

She looked up again, her irritation evident, only to be met by the livid face of a man three times her size. He glared down at her, his eyes narrowed dangerously. "Ain't you gonna apologise?"

She frowned, the tone of her voice coming out slightly petulant. "I'm sorry."

He raised in eyebrow, leaning down towards her, his rank breath brushing past her face as she forced herself not to noticeably gag. "I don't like your tone there, chicky. So I'm gonna tell you again. Apologise."

Warning bells began to sound as she jerked back, realising that the man had a number of others behind him, all looking at her with expressions of interest. She did not need her soul perception to tell her that these men had done some bad things and if she wasn't careful, she was next on the list.

"I'm sorry." She replied more sincerely, attempting to stand. She yelped slightly when his large hand grasped her shoulder, shoving her down again.

"I think you should repay me for your lack of respect earlier." He told her coolly, advancing a step forward as she scuttled back, "You're body will do. It's not much to look at, but I'll settle."

Maka felt her teeth bare at the thought. She moved to stand and once again, his hand moved to push her. She twisted to the side, his hand groping at empty air. She stood, watching as the man stumbled slightly and just managed to right himself before he wound up with his chin to the pavement.

"Sorry again." She said coolly, although she knew provoking him further was a foolish move. She felt frustrated and confused with how she even wound up here, she did not feel like dealing with this pig of a man. She would not permit him laying a hand on her again. "I suppose I should have caught you."

His mouth twisted, his cheeks coloring slightly in embarrassment as he tensed. He reached forward although this time, she did not move to avoid him. If he tried it again, he would really regret it. She wasn't helpless and she wouldn't act like she was. She braced herself, her hands clenching as she prepared to move. "You little bitch...!"

It happened quickly. Soul was suddenly in front of her, his hand firmly grasping the other man's in a tight grip, his face blank. His eyes, however, were threatening pain should he decide to continue his advances.

"Hey buddy, how about you back off."

The man jerked his arm from Soul's grasp, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he looked Soul over. "What are you going to do about it pipsqueak? You're girl here don't have no respect. I'm going to teach it to her."

He made to step forward but Soul held his ground, not giving an inch.

_Her Papa stood between her and them. She could barely see over his shoulder although Papa couldn't block all the yelling from her. What were they doing now?_

"You're not laying a hand on her." Soul said simply, ignoring the way the rest of the group were surrounding them now, keeping his eyes on the biggest potential threat.

_He pushed around Papa, grabbing her wrist and yanking her forward. It hurt! What were they doing? Papa!_

She heard Soul's breathing picking up the pace, his soul wavelengths frantic. His shoulders were solid, his eyes set straight and daring. He was hiding it well and if she didn't know him the way she did, she would never have known how worried he was.

_A flash of steel..._

"You're really asking for it punk. Who the hell do you think you are?"

_A spurt of scarlet..._

Soul tensed, pushing Maka further behind him and against the wall. "It'll be okay, Maka." He whispered, "If we have to, we can fight our way out."

_Crying, begging, pleading and then..._

"S-Soul?"

"Just stay behind me, Maka."

"But Soul, we can't..."

"Aww, look guys, she scared! Looks like the little bitch finally realised what kind of situation she's in!"

"Back off!"

_Guns._

_And pain._

She knew what he was going to do almost before he did. The tips of his fingers glistened, a faint glow emitting from his arm as he prepared for the transformation. He was making the same mistake.

And she was going to watch it happen all over again.

_No..._

Not again.

She didn't want to be alone again.

She would not lose Soul too!

"NO!"

Maka shoved forward, her abrupt movement shocking Soul enough to stop him from finishing and his hands becoming pure flesh once more. She stood before him, arms outstretched and shielding him the best her smaller body could. Her eyes furiously challenged every one of the men before her, daring them to come so much as an inch closer.

Time stood still, all those involved shocked into silence by her bold act.

However, the spell broke moments later, a smile coming to the face of the man before her.

"Oh dear, looks like we've got us a wildcat boys." He sneered, earning a chuckle from his goons. "What should we do now? Obviously all of us can't take you on."

"I'd like to see you try." She snarled, her words far more confident then she felt. "If you think you're man enough, go ahead."

He chuckled, taking a mockingly slow step forward, reaching out to grasp her with a grubby paw.

Soul stepped forward, his wavelengths filled with panic and concern. "Maka!"

Shouts. Laughter. Soul's voice. Her own heartbeat all filling her mind at once. Her mind moved in a frenzy, too fast for her to track and yet, it made perfect sense, her adrenaline taking over what her thoughts could not follow.

She stepped forward, her hands resting on the man's chest. Her feet were steadily planted on the ground as she breathed, trying to remember the instructions as both Black*Star and her books had told her. She could feel it building, the power pulsing through her, steady and strong before shooting to her hands and blasting out from her palms.

The shock to her body was far more then she had anticipated.

She felt her strength wax and wane in the blink of an eye, her vision turning black as she fought to keep herself standing, her mind light and fuzzy. She could hear screams fill the air, the pounding of feet as the herd scattered and Soul's shouts as he caught her.

"-ka!"

Had it worked? She had heard of people using their wavelengths as weapons before but she had never tried... Why did she feel so tired?

"MAKA! Wake up!"

Everything was so... Heavy...

"Did... It work?" She questioned, her voice coming out weaker then she had anticipated.

His voice was hesitant. "If... That's what you meant to happen, I guess it did."

A lopsided smile fought it's way to her face. "I'm glad... You're safe... Soul..."

Then the world went black.


End file.
